lomonaaeren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lomonaaeren) wrote2022-12-04 07:44 pm
lomonaaeren) wrote2022-12-04 07:44 pm
[Solstitial Shorts]: The Best Gala Ever, Harry/Theo, PG-13
Title: The Best Gala Ever
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Theo
Content Notes: Mild angst, established relationship, present tense, ignores the epilogue
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1200
Summary: Harry is tired of being asked on dates by people who want nothing more from him than his fame, so he shows up to the latest Ministry gala wearing a flashy emerald ring on his finger that he bought himself. Various people have something to say about that.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “Solstitial Shorts” fics, very short stories being posted between Halloween and the winter solstice.
The Best Gala Ever
“Mr. Potter, may I have the pleasure…oh.”
Harry turns around with a smile that he has to work hard to keep innocent. He takes a sip from the flute of vile-tasting champagne—the Ministry is too cheap to buy anything better—and raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”
The Auror standing behind him, who Harry knows vaguely as Someone Hawkinson, is staring glumly at the ring. “I was going to ask you to dance,” he says, dragging his gaze back to Harry’s face. “But I see you’re engaged.”
“Yes.” Harry preens a little, knowing it’s exaggerated, but also that someone who doesn’t know him well won’t pick up on that. They all expect him to be a vain git; some of them would even like him better that way. “I am.”
“Oh,” Hawkinson repeats, and then turns and plods away again into the crowd.
Harry snorts after him. The man couldn’t even offer Harry congratulations on what he would have to decide is a recent engagement, given that this is the first night that Harry’s worn the ring.
Just more proof that so few people want him for more than the cachet he would add to their social standing, or really know him.
Harry continues to circulate around the room, because Kingsley was really adamant about people knowing Harry was there, and it is for charity, after all. Multiple people come up to him, open their mouths, stare at the ring, and retreat with drooping heads.
Hermione finds him halfway through the evening and scowls at the ring. “Honestly, Harry?”
Harry laughs a little and casts a wandless Privacy Charm with a flick of his fingers. “Yes, honestly, Hermione,” he says. “I’m tired of people assuming that they can just ask me to dance or eat with them so they can show me off to their friends.”
“But what will happen when everyone realizes there’s no engagement?”
“Then I’ll just tell them I’m nursing a broken heart.”
Hermione sighs and swallows half her champagne in one go. The worst thing Harry knows about here is that she likes the stuff. “Fine. Then I won’t start contradicting other people when they ask me if you’re engaged. But I won’t pretend that I know who it is, either.”
“That’s fine. Not contradicting it is all I could expect from you.”
“If you would just…”
“You know why I can’t.”
After a moment, Hermione nods gloomily, gets another flute of champagne, and turns away to talk to someone else in the swirling crowd. Harry lowers the Privacy Charm and smiles into his drink. It’s not good for much else.
“Potter.”
Harry turns around, eyebrow raised. He and Malfoy generally avoid each other at public gatherings like this; no need to stir up old history. And anyway, Malfoy is married, so it’s not like he would have come to ask Harry on a date. “What?”
Malfoy’s eyes dart to the ring, and then up to Harry’s face. “Are you aware that that ring has an emerald like the one on my Astoria’s finger?”
“So?”
“So someone might think that I’m going to divorce her and marry you instead,” Malfoy snaps.
Harry is startled into laughter, which of course draws attention. Malfoy hunches his shoulders and darts his eyes around, seeming to realize for the first time that he might have wanted to avoid Harry. “I can’t help that, Malfoy. If it does help, then I promise I’ll deny that I’m going to make you a bigamist.”
“Take the ring off.”
“No.”
Malfoy, as always, acts baffled when his demands aren’t met, and retreats with his metaphorical tail between metaphorical legs. Harry turns around with a smile and nearly runs straight into someone who reaches out to steady him with both hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t knock me over, Potter.”
It’s Theo. Harry takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to,” he says, and then starts to meander in the direction of the food table. The Ministry does that better than it does drinks.
Theo seizes his shoulder and drags him towards a pillar. Harry snorts as they step back into darkness which abruptly deepens with the Privacy Charm that Theo like to use. “If you’re looking to avoid rumors, this isn’t the way to go about it.”
“You’re driving me mad,” Theo snaps at him, eyes flashing.
“Oh? Am I?” Harry pretends to examine his fingernails, keeping an eye on Theo over the rim of his glass.
“All these people coming up and flirting with you, only to start spreading the rumor that you’re taken, and at least half of them talking about how the emerald on your finger matches the one on Astoria Malfoy’s finger…”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Truth? I bought this for myself, Theo. It was the biggest jewel the shop had, and I didn’t want to take the chance that anyone would miss it.” He waggles his fingers, making the gold ring bob and the emerald shatter the light back at Theo. “What, didn’t you see it?”
“You drive me mad,” Theo repeats, and grabs him by the shoulders, leaning in to kiss him.
Harry leans up and grabs him back, making the grasp of his hands and his mouth equally firm. Theo kisses him nearly hard enough to drive him into the pillar and then pulls back, panting. His eyes are too bright and his hands are shaking as he stares down at Harry.
“You were the one who didn’t like them flirting with me, and also the one who didn’t want to expose our relationship to the public,” Harry says softly. Theo still feels chilled by the shadow of his father’s past as a Death Eater, and he wanted to protect Harry from publicity as well as avoid it himself. “So I did the only thing I could. They might spread rumors, sure, but they’ll stop approaching me, and no one will suspect—”
“I changed my mind.”
Harry does his best to stand still, to not let his expression change. “What?”
“I can’t stand the thought of everyone thinking you’re together with someone besides me. Take the ring off. We’ll be together publicly.”
Harry feels his eyes widen, and his smile doing the same thing. Exultation dances through him, but it’s as if he’s separate from the moment, hovering above an invisible floor and waiting for the moment to crack.
Then he flings himself at Theo, kissing him hard. Theo kisses him back, one hand cupping the nape of Harry’s neck and the other reaching impatiently for the ring on Harry’s left hand. Harry gladly turns his hand so Theo can reach and remove it.
“You could have chosen something less gaudy,” Theo grumbles, and kisses him again.
Harry relaxes into Theo’s arms, smugly certain that he could have chosen something less gaudy, but that wouldn’t have had the effect he wanted.
Now, thanks to what he’d done, he has the chance to have a public relationship with the man he loves and stop the flirting dead in its tracks.
Who says a Gryffindor can’t be cunning?
The End.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Theo
Content Notes: Mild angst, established relationship, present tense, ignores the epilogue
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1200
Summary: Harry is tired of being asked on dates by people who want nothing more from him than his fame, so he shows up to the latest Ministry gala wearing a flashy emerald ring on his finger that he bought himself. Various people have something to say about that.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “Solstitial Shorts” fics, very short stories being posted between Halloween and the winter solstice.
The Best Gala Ever
“Mr. Potter, may I have the pleasure…oh.”
Harry turns around with a smile that he has to work hard to keep innocent. He takes a sip from the flute of vile-tasting champagne—the Ministry is too cheap to buy anything better—and raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”
The Auror standing behind him, who Harry knows vaguely as Someone Hawkinson, is staring glumly at the ring. “I was going to ask you to dance,” he says, dragging his gaze back to Harry’s face. “But I see you’re engaged.”
“Yes.” Harry preens a little, knowing it’s exaggerated, but also that someone who doesn’t know him well won’t pick up on that. They all expect him to be a vain git; some of them would even like him better that way. “I am.”
“Oh,” Hawkinson repeats, and then turns and plods away again into the crowd.
Harry snorts after him. The man couldn’t even offer Harry congratulations on what he would have to decide is a recent engagement, given that this is the first night that Harry’s worn the ring.
Just more proof that so few people want him for more than the cachet he would add to their social standing, or really know him.
Harry continues to circulate around the room, because Kingsley was really adamant about people knowing Harry was there, and it is for charity, after all. Multiple people come up to him, open their mouths, stare at the ring, and retreat with drooping heads.
Hermione finds him halfway through the evening and scowls at the ring. “Honestly, Harry?”
Harry laughs a little and casts a wandless Privacy Charm with a flick of his fingers. “Yes, honestly, Hermione,” he says. “I’m tired of people assuming that they can just ask me to dance or eat with them so they can show me off to their friends.”
“But what will happen when everyone realizes there’s no engagement?”
“Then I’ll just tell them I’m nursing a broken heart.”
Hermione sighs and swallows half her champagne in one go. The worst thing Harry knows about here is that she likes the stuff. “Fine. Then I won’t start contradicting other people when they ask me if you’re engaged. But I won’t pretend that I know who it is, either.”
“That’s fine. Not contradicting it is all I could expect from you.”
“If you would just…”
“You know why I can’t.”
After a moment, Hermione nods gloomily, gets another flute of champagne, and turns away to talk to someone else in the swirling crowd. Harry lowers the Privacy Charm and smiles into his drink. It’s not good for much else.
“Potter.”
Harry turns around, eyebrow raised. He and Malfoy generally avoid each other at public gatherings like this; no need to stir up old history. And anyway, Malfoy is married, so it’s not like he would have come to ask Harry on a date. “What?”
Malfoy’s eyes dart to the ring, and then up to Harry’s face. “Are you aware that that ring has an emerald like the one on my Astoria’s finger?”
“So?”
“So someone might think that I’m going to divorce her and marry you instead,” Malfoy snaps.
Harry is startled into laughter, which of course draws attention. Malfoy hunches his shoulders and darts his eyes around, seeming to realize for the first time that he might have wanted to avoid Harry. “I can’t help that, Malfoy. If it does help, then I promise I’ll deny that I’m going to make you a bigamist.”
“Take the ring off.”
“No.”
Malfoy, as always, acts baffled when his demands aren’t met, and retreats with his metaphorical tail between metaphorical legs. Harry turns around with a smile and nearly runs straight into someone who reaches out to steady him with both hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t knock me over, Potter.”
It’s Theo. Harry takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to,” he says, and then starts to meander in the direction of the food table. The Ministry does that better than it does drinks.
Theo seizes his shoulder and drags him towards a pillar. Harry snorts as they step back into darkness which abruptly deepens with the Privacy Charm that Theo like to use. “If you’re looking to avoid rumors, this isn’t the way to go about it.”
“You’re driving me mad,” Theo snaps at him, eyes flashing.
“Oh? Am I?” Harry pretends to examine his fingernails, keeping an eye on Theo over the rim of his glass.
“All these people coming up and flirting with you, only to start spreading the rumor that you’re taken, and at least half of them talking about how the emerald on your finger matches the one on Astoria Malfoy’s finger…”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Truth? I bought this for myself, Theo. It was the biggest jewel the shop had, and I didn’t want to take the chance that anyone would miss it.” He waggles his fingers, making the gold ring bob and the emerald shatter the light back at Theo. “What, didn’t you see it?”
“You drive me mad,” Theo repeats, and grabs him by the shoulders, leaning in to kiss him.
Harry leans up and grabs him back, making the grasp of his hands and his mouth equally firm. Theo kisses him nearly hard enough to drive him into the pillar and then pulls back, panting. His eyes are too bright and his hands are shaking as he stares down at Harry.
“You were the one who didn’t like them flirting with me, and also the one who didn’t want to expose our relationship to the public,” Harry says softly. Theo still feels chilled by the shadow of his father’s past as a Death Eater, and he wanted to protect Harry from publicity as well as avoid it himself. “So I did the only thing I could. They might spread rumors, sure, but they’ll stop approaching me, and no one will suspect—”
“I changed my mind.”
Harry does his best to stand still, to not let his expression change. “What?”
“I can’t stand the thought of everyone thinking you’re together with someone besides me. Take the ring off. We’ll be together publicly.”
Harry feels his eyes widen, and his smile doing the same thing. Exultation dances through him, but it’s as if he’s separate from the moment, hovering above an invisible floor and waiting for the moment to crack.
Then he flings himself at Theo, kissing him hard. Theo kisses him back, one hand cupping the nape of Harry’s neck and the other reaching impatiently for the ring on Harry’s left hand. Harry gladly turns his hand so Theo can reach and remove it.
“You could have chosen something less gaudy,” Theo grumbles, and kisses him again.
Harry relaxes into Theo’s arms, smugly certain that he could have chosen something less gaudy, but that wouldn’t have had the effect he wanted.
Now, thanks to what he’d done, he has the chance to have a public relationship with the man he loves and stop the flirting dead in its tracks.
Who says a Gryffindor can’t be cunning?
The End.